The Faun
by dictionaryofdreams
Summary: Rough yet nimble hands moving lithely over wooden pipes, its bestial eyes burning like embers. The star, it too was a thing wild and enthralling, casting its spell upon him, like the realm of an old forgotten god. [Faun (Poe Dameron) x General Hux, Greek Mythology AU, Gingerpilot/Generalpilot/Damerux]
1. Chapter 1

Armitage's eyes lingered on the red flickering lights of the sensors on the ceiling above his bed. There was the iridescent black lens of the camera, the humming of the heating and ventilation mechanisms, the consistent design of the fixtures which made each chamber feel like one and the same, regardless of which spacecraft he was stationed on. Indiscernible words and the sound of footsteps were occasionally carried to him through the heavy walls, yet rarely would they disturb his rest. With the years that had gone by, all of these elements had become part of the familiar, almost comfortable, background.

When he laid down and turned off all but the high urgency communications, Hux still felt as though he were a being within a hive, a scattered organism forever active and alive – each infinitesimal entity taking its allotted time to rest and to work, ensuring that the sum of its parts remained in ceaseless motion, never wavering it its influence.

It was the star that had disturbed his peace. Four days had passed by, nevertheless he found himself thinking about it, dwelling on it, unable to fall asleep. The habitual ambience of the chamber appeared to him then as irksome and cold, its metallic walls felt like a storage capsule, keeping him in, rather than keeping out the remote figures before whom he was always on ceremony, on alert to their interpretation of his every word and action.

It had been by chance that he had first glimpsed the star on the navigator screen, a moment of idle curiosity, a star like thousands of others scattered across the galaxy. A floating unknown world, highlighted upon the device as a place uncharted and nameless, yet capable of sustaining life. He had long prided himself on what had been the result of much labor; he himself had taken on the task of ensuring that the map files and databases which fed the navigation systems of the First Order were as accurate and exhaustive as generous funds and resourcefulness could manage.

More than the gap in the quality of the system, Hux was disconcerted by a thread of fancy which drew his agitated thoughts like a magnet toward that ambiguous entity within the vastness of space. N412.

Rising from his bed, the general approached the sink and turned on the faucet, allowing the cold water to pour into his cupped hands. He gazed vacantly at the pallid face staring back at him with sleepless eyes, finding it strange how he could rarely form a definite recollection of himself in the absence of the image standing before him. Armitage felt mildly repulsed by the sight of the disheveled hair; the perpetually severe expression of the lips, which seemed to curl only into a smile of derision, and rarely for the sort of careless joy that he imagined grazed other faces belonging to less neurotic minds; the thin, almost adolescent figure, unmasked from the dignity of his uniform, it too dissatisfied him – as though declaring his inexperience in the primal shows of dominance manifested on battlefields.

As each of these aspects fell into focus under the dim light of the claustrophobic room, the study of his reflection made his heart churn with the growing wish which had been formulating since the strange obsession first took hold of him. Was it a form of madness? He washed his face with the cold water, as though the act itself would wash away the deficient image, the strange fixation, or at the very least, the sleeplessness which boded to interfere with his half-formed ambition.

 _N412. Tonight, I will leave tonight_ , so Armitage spoke in barely a whisper. His eye instinctively flickered again to the camera lens above, as was his wont when his thoughts took an unorthodox turn. When the order of the hive appeared more despotic than efficient, having more in it of a man-made purgatory than a utopia for the man of reason.

Such madmen's schemes would bloom at night and fade by morning.

With false bravado, he would convince himself that, living or dead, he would nonetheless escape. Yet the alerts, orders, and duties which awaited him on the morrow were often enough to quench rebellious resolutions. The barrage of demands upon his time was an effective balm for his ego – he was too important to leave, too useful, he would come to it later, think of it later. Surely his training and capacities were well suited to his environment, unlike the world outside of the First Order, which would hardly welcome him with open arms.

Hux dressed quickly, almost carelessly, only stopping himself in time as he was about to open the door of his chamber. He paused, his hand hovering over the glowing green button, taking a deep breath – arranging the first threads of a plan. The door opened and the general stepped into the empty hall of the spacecraft. In the distance he heard the marching of boots. They turned down the hall and saw him. Armitage foresaw them scanning his masked expression – and he their opaque black and white helmets, each regarding the other as another somber automaton. General Hux walked briskly past, his hands behind his back. By some instinct he believed that it was integral to show no sign of nervousness or hesitation, to move with a determined purpose. He knew his destination and the fastest route to it.

What if they asked questions? Would they dare? He did not trust in his abilities to speak an outright lie other than in feigning complacent obedience, having learnt the scope of his capacities from previous experience. Additionally, he had no satisfactory alibi premeditated for why he was leaving on an unscheduled mission into space alone. He then thought of the most simple solution to dealing with interferences – yet even violence came with its complications, and certainly, its consequences.

It would not be simple. How could it be simple, to just leave the First Order?

Before he had fully apprehended how it had occurred, Hux discovered that he had passed by the guards at the gates to the where the flight vessels awaited him. Nothing, no were questions asked, no answers given. They stepped aside for General Hux, for surely his authority was sufficient to allow him to pass throughout the ship un-harassed by menials. With supercilious satisfaction, he acknowledged that it was the anxiety of a guilty conscience that made him doubt his own authority, for even then he had not yet decided upon the extent of guilt which he would be willing to incur.

Was he leaving for a few hours, a few days, or weeks, or was it – could it really be, permanently?

The general reassured himself that there was little reason to fear. He would return by morning and resume his duties. He would give a full account of the star to whomever might require it, for there was no dishonor in a simple scouting mission. Perhaps it might contain valuable metal ore, perhaps, his thoughts trailed on, he could explain with reason what could be termed as nothing other than the force of madness.

The man felt himself as one possessed. While he waited for the vessel's engine to start, Hux was certain that he would take down anyone who attempted to stop him.

All around him was still, they all moved aside for him, opened the gate and airlock. The path was clear.

No questions asked, no answers given.

The fragments of a poem floated to the surface out of the tangled depths of the man's memory.

 _Look not thou on beauty charming;_

 _Sit thou still when kings are arming;_

 _Taste not when the wine-cup glistens;_

 _Speak not when the people listen;_

 _Stop thine ear against the singer;_

 _From the red gold keep thy finger;_

 _Vacant heart and hand and eye,_

 _Easy live and quiet die._

It was not the ventilation, not the heating. It had been music, strange and primeval, calling to him.

He could almost see it. Rough yet nimble hands moving lithely over wooden pipes, its bestial eyes burning like embers. The star, it too was a thing wild and enthralling, casting its spell upon him, like the realm of an old forgotten god.

Armitage burst into nervous laughter as he struggled to focus on the steering of the ship.

 _What am I doing?_ he muttered under his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

The aircraft slowly descended as Hux took in the view of the landscape. It looked as though the sun would be setting soon, for the body of water not far from the sandy coastline took on a hue of red and gold. Along the distant coast, great formations of rock protected the serene location from the billowing wind, giving it the sort of awe inspiring ambiance which helped to comfort him with his wayward decision. As he stepped off of the aircraft and onto the beach, he paused to admire the waves and gray cliffs before looking out at the dense forest which lay behind him.

The general sensed that it was there that he must go, like one compelled by a dream. Before proceeding, his hand lingered over the dagger which he was wont to carry with him, and while reassured by its presence, wondered whether he ought to return to the flightcraft and further arm himself. However, a sense of urgency, and something more besides, urged him onward to the woods with an imperious restlessness.

Armitage looked over his shoulder at the waves which still lapped over the sand a last time and then began to run, relaxed only by the open view to the left and right of him which would allow him to detect any sign of an approaching threat, at the same time feeling that for whatever it was that he would find, these fear-induced precautions would not aid him. All the while, his body felt heavy and cumbersome, as though it were nothing more than an unnecessary weight over his spirit. Hux also observed that the new world upon which he descended was colder than its paradisiacal views would lead one to imagine and it was not without some dread that he imagined what it would be like once night fell. This thought, too, urged him to hurry in his expedition and find whatever it was that desired to be found.

Reaching the forest, the general clumsily pushed aside branches and stepped over twisting and winding roots, struggling to make a path through the woodland. All around him he could hear the sounds of twittering, rustling and the occasional guttural screeches as unknown beasts and birds scattered at his unceremonious approach.

Armitage's heart pounded in his chest with a feeling of nausea, even in the chill wind that filtered through the branches he could still feel the sweat running down his brow. His boots were soiled with mud and often he would shut his eyes and cover his face with his arm to avoid the scratches of the outstretched claws of trees, or so they appeared in the descending darkness. The rosy sky took on a fiercer hue, as though it were on fire; still the man was glad for its light, in his mind calculating how long it might take him to return to the ship.

The two contrasting desires struggled against one another: to turn back or to go on with the pressing need to move faster. To have come thus far, to have endured the nuisances that were then behind him – he knew that he must carry out his act of madness to its conclusion, whatever it may be.

At times he would catch a glimpse of a dark form in the distance, something of considerable weight and size, trampling laboriously somewhere beyond the rows of trees, causing him to pause and ensure that he was silent and as hidden from view as could be managed until it had passed him by. Other times it would be flashes of color up above, the bright plumage of birds alighting upon the branches which made up the great canopy. Sometimes Hux would be startled by a movement close by his feet, catching his breath to find that it was only some form of vermin, skittish diminutive creatures, perhaps as ill at ease around strange unwanted guests as he was himself.

The man also observed that a thick aroma permeated the forest, like a heavy perfume of musk, exuding from the variety of tree most common to the surroundings. It overpowered his senses and resulted in fits of coughing, while causing his eyes water in reaction to it. However, as the general progressed on the wayward journey, it was of some relief that his body seemed to adjust to the strange scent in time, for the coughing had made him feel all the more vulnerable in the unfamiliar landscape.

Nonetheless, the impossibility of suppressing the noise of his passage through the brambles certainly sufficed to make him an easily discernible prey. It was therefore not difficult for Hux's imaginings to gravitate to one so inclined to peruse him: a carnivorous beast akin to a bear with the horns of a bull and tusks alongside sharp canine teeth, for such a being he had once laid eyes on before as it was being led away in chains to be baited and goaded for the entertainment of crude personages.

It had been long since he had been so immersed in wilderness, although it was different kind of solitude than what he had experienced onboard the spacecraft, it was hardly a feeling that he welcomed: that of a hunted creature in a primitive chaotic world of predators and prey, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Yet there was also another sensation, equally strong; that of something calling him which continued to compel him on his journey.

It was very close, indeed it would not be long and he urged himself to keep going. He could hear it, or believed that he did, for Armitage was not entirely confident that it resided outside of his restless mind.

It was therefore with trembling and strange delight that his eyes suddenly focused on a human-like figure partially obscured by the foliage. The sound was distinct: that familiar sound which he had heard onboard the ship as he lay in bed within his chamber. That sound of primeval music which made him certain of the presence of another being on the island, a sentient creature of powers whose bounds he dreaded to contemplate, for they had sufficed to bring a man of reason tramping through a forsaken forest in the middle of the night. Armitage recognized the first flames of idolatrous reverence towards it, for it drew upon his inner yearnings to worship. Although this proclivity had been toiled with even before he stole the spacecraft, it seemed to grow in force the closer he approached.

Hux was at odds with himself as he struggled between fear and avid curiosity of the kind that would open Pandora's box.

Strange thoughts raced through his mind. He was certain that It was an enlightened being, whatever it was that had brought him there, a thing beyond the conception of man, he was chosen by it for a reason, he, Armitage Hux. It would help him, it would free him, it was his, and he was a part of it since time began.

Where these all delusions? An intoxication? He knew all the while that these were ludicrous hopes that a wise man ought to guard himself against, yet in the aphrodisic dreamscape under the blazing sky they seemed to him like the logical unraveling of a single thread, leaving him no other path, no other choice, but onward through the forest.

The melody continued for some time as Armitage strained to see the bewildering creature without making his own presence known, watching his footsteps as to avoid the crackling of broken branches or the rustling of leaves.

Failing in both regards, he held his breath by some instinct, as though by doing so he somehow ceased to be, that it would not sense his presence. But surely it could not be so. It knew, it knew the moment he opened his eyes in bed with the vague sense that something was not as it always was. It was almost as though its spirit was with him then, aboard the First Order spacecraft, calling him, impatient to see him. Likewise, Armitage could not wait, he approached closer, while his body and his instincts of self-preservation reeled.


	3. Chapter 3

As he had imagined, it was indeed partially humanoid in its form, almost entirely so above the torso save for an excess of black curling hair upon its chest, limbs, and hands. Its nails too seemed crudely trimmed, as though their natural tendency was to grow into claws. Its thick lips and heavy brows alternated in various expressions of mirth as it played upon a simple wooden pipe, visibly pleased with its own mastery of the pagan instrument.

Yet its most striking feature was the shape of its legs, akin to those of a goat, as if the creature was composed of two halves which had been sewn together by the whimsical or macabre tendencies of an expert taxidermist. A small tail and horns he perceived as well, giving the half-man half-beast the semblance of a fiend, were it not for its jovial music and benign visage which seemed to bode no ill-will towards the long awaited guest.

Its face was not uncomely, with its profusion of jet black locks falling over its forehead and the general symmetry of its features, masculine and noble. Armitage was enthralled by the sight of the creature and its music.

Not knowing what to do with himself however, the man was embarrassed by the intrusion which he made into the fair musician's grotto. Frozen in uncomfortable silence, he continued to watch the being sitting upon a stone nearby a small emerald pool, over which flowers had been scattered. This was surrounded by a myriad of glowing candles that flickered each time the night wind passed through the trees, for indeed the rays of light had concluded their descent, replaced by an inky blackness which would have been sinister to Armitage, but for the peculiar reassurance he felt in knowing that he had found what he had sought and that his safety depended on the welcome of the lord and master of the realm. That no darkness or light could harm or save him, no man or beast could touch, lest the forest god should will it to be so. For indeed this was a god, so Hux's conscience whispered as he regarded him like a hypnotized cobra.

Suddenly, the music stopped and the pipes were set down upon the grass. The being's eyes turned to Armitage: they were black and unwavering, unnerving to the general who felt himself pierced by them, as though they could open wide the thoughts within his skull as easily as a parrot would crack open a shell.

Meanwhile, an all too human smile played upon its lips, one that Hux struggled to read – was it of pleasure or malice, of welcome or of contempt? On the surface he feared that it contemplated devouring him as one brought from afar for the stone of sacrifice. Deeper within, he trembled lest it should scorn him as one unworthy.

"Well hello there, what brings you to this part of the woods?" the creature smile at Hux as he produced an orange fruit from a satchel "Hmm I suppose you cannot speak. Are you hungry, you look like you're hungry," the faun threw the fruit towards the general.

"Do you like rahtiki? Who doesn't like rahtiki – this is the seasons when they are at their sweetest and juiciest," he continued in a cloying voice commonly reserved for pets and small children, before taking a bite of one of the fruits himself.

Armitage did not answer straight away, taken aback by what seemed like a commonplace, almost banal, first utterance out one with so exalted an aura. Yet he could somehow understand the other's words and that in itself he found miraculous. His eyes then fell to the fruit which lay at his feet, indeed he hardly knew how to respond to such a greeting. He wondered if the other thought him to be some kind of half-witted beast in the same class as dogs – it could not be so, surely not. Yet he knew that he had to make some kind of response to the deity. Cautiously he picked up the fruit, holding it in both hands and bowing his head, as he knelt beside the creature.

"T-thank you for your generous offering," Hux forced himself to say, hoping that the other would not detect the disappointment and an inkling of resentment in his voice at being treated thus. Yet he would give the other the benefit of the doubt, for perhaps his ways and mannerisms were different than those with which he was familiar. And to accept the alternative was fatal to justifying his excursion from the First Order.

"Oh! I see!" the creatures eyes widened as he sprang from his seat. "You're not from the Cave Dwellers are you? You're a Visitor, you poor soul. I will tell you now, it was not me who called you here, it was the planet," so spoke the faun, as though recognizing some familiar thought in the other's gaze, an unspoken question intimated by Armitage's worshipful expression. "Or rather, it was the forest that did it. Don't worry, sit down and I will explain everything," the faun patted a spot on the grass beside him.

Hux reluctantly sat down, his interest overruling his annoyance at the other's impertinence.

"Most of the species that survive here are adapted to avoid the notice of the trees," described the being. "Beastly things really – they grab hold of you with their roots and vines and pull you into the trunk where you are steeped in acidic sap for three or four years until there is hardly anything left of you – and then they spit out the bones, all coated in amber. A ghastly sight I hope to never see again."

Armitage listened to the strange and unexpected narrative along with the enthusiastic gesticulations which the faun enacted for his sake to help him imagine it the better.

"These trees?" Hux pointed to the forest from whence he came. His lip curled in revulsion as he considered the process of a slow death by decomposition, as well as the thought of his future journey back to the ship. Surely it was a ruse, for he had spent hours in the forest already and had come to no harm, yet he could not entirely dispel the fear.

"Yes, those trees," the faun tried his best to stifle the signs of amusement which he took in frightening the man. "It is only the Visitors that they take, and only at certain periods of the season. Some say it is a particular odor or pheromone that masks our presence – that of the natives I mean, like myself. Those species that were born with it survived to reproduce, those that did not were devoured by the forest and are now extinct. Alas most Visitors are bound for the latter category. But do not take it too badly, at least there is -"

"If what you say is true, then why did I hear your music?" Hux interrupted, suspecting the other of a tall tale as he discerned the creature's half-suppressed smirk, "I saw you as well, in a vision – I know not what to call it exactly, although you looked in some ways different from how you are now," he recalled the fiery eyes. "Nonetheless, it seemed as though—"

"I was calling you?" the faun finished the man's sentence. "That is exactly how my people describe it, even in the old legends. The forest, it amplifies the sounds of the birds and animals, mating calls mostly. It is the mating season right now you see – and therefore the feeding season for the trees. At times creatures come from planets that are light-years away, brought here by the amplified sound that is somehow worked into their brain into a kind of mania. Those who can get here are compelled to search for the thing whose shadow they saw, whose sound they heard. Those that cannot get here go mad for there is no way to cure it, the legends say it only ends with one's last breath for those who cannot find their Other – even if it is a measly haflor or a slimey jakroot."

"A what?" Hux interrupted, drawn into the other's strange account, half forgetting his initial incredulity.

"Oh, they are just small gray furry creatures with snouts that like burrow near the hawthronk plants – like this one," he gestured at a yellow flower which floated and bloomed upon the water of the pond. "They are hard to tell apart but in any case either one is edible, halfor are sort of gamey I must say, decent in a stew nonetheless – but I digress," the faun chuckled as he got up from his seat to build a fire in the pit which he had previously made for the very purpose. "So when the Visitors such as yourself arrive, they often starve to death or get eaten in their obsessive delusion to find the Other, the being which they believe had called them here, ascribing to it magical, even godly, properties."

"Even amongst my people it had once been believed that these foreigners are one's other half," he continued. "One's soulmate, if you will. But such amusing and unlikely matches were observed that few believe in the myth in this age. Those that make it to this planet and find their Other, often of a species incredibly different from their own, do not know what to do with their maddening desire, almost as great that of an animal in heat. They at times end up killing or eating it to become one with it."

All the while Armitage sat listening in amazement and horror at the creature's explanation, not knowing what to say. His eyes lingered on the fire which the faun was then tending to, his gaze flickering between it and the human visage with troubled thoughts clearly visible upon his countenance.

"You should consider yourself immensely lucky that you had heard my good old pipe here and not the howl of a ragnerock, or by my hoof you may call yourself a dead man," the faun patted Hux on the shoulder heartily, seeing that he was in need of some reassurance, although not without some amusement at the other's expression, which was nothing short of what he expected from one who so narrowly escaped a gruesome death by finding him in time – or so he hoped.

Ultimately, his plan was to bring Hux to the mountains where he would be out of reach of the trees to wait out the dangerous season, while he would carry food to him and whatever else was needed in the inhospitable conditions. And as for the effects to which survivors where prone to, he had yet to decide what could be done for his lovelorn friend. He wanted to see if it could be done, for never was it recorded that a Visitor to the planet was able to survive.

"Why am I here and not others of my people?" Hux asked as he tried to regain some of his composure.

"I am not sure why exactly, perhaps it only affects beings in heat, like many of the lower animals of this planet," the faun shrugged his shoulders, prodding the fire with a stick.

"I am not in heat, nor a lower animal," the general said tersely.

"You did have a very dazzled enamored look about you when you first saw me," he watched the other's scowl grow more prominent along with the reddening of his cheek. "In any case, I am glad to meet a lover of fine music, someone with a real appreciation," the being winked at Hux with a knowing smile playing upon his lips.

Armitage looked away, exhaling a deep sigh. His eyes looked up at the stars above, wondering if he would ever be able to get off of the planet, while at the same time fearing the very same thing, for not even the knowledge of the intoxication was sufficient to fully dispel the influence which it had upon him.

"Not to worry, my pasty red haired friend," the faun went on, "I will not let anyone eat you, it is the first rule of hospitality."

"Delightful," said Hux sardonically. However, he too returned a strained smile to that of his dubious companion, whether from the relief of not being dead or other reasons which he sought not to acknowledge.

"Are you going to sleep soon, because I am – and I really do hope that you are not nocturnal," the faun remarked. "Shall I make you a nest, a den, a burrow, or are you a perch sort of guy? And if it's a burrow you will have to help me with the digging or it will take all night. Well… I suppose it will take all night one way or another, it does not look like you do a lot of work with those arms. I'm guessing you are a perch guy, hmm…although those legs do not look like much either -"

"Anything! Anywhere -" said Hux, eager to silence the other's preposterous ramblings.

"Nest it is, follow me," the faun picked up his bag of fruit and led the other through a curtain of vines, parting it with his arm to reveal a cavern. After few paces, they arrived at a heavy wooden door which the faun pushed open and bolted after they had entered.

"You do not happen to have any of that shiny stuff with you?" the faun gestured at the door bolt. "I took it from the giant flying thing another creature came in that probably looked like you, at least what remained of him, I believe it was about the same size and shape. S-sorry that was insensitive of me, lets discuss it tomorrow. I will let you get some rest."

Hux nodded in assent, relieved not to tell the other about his ship in case he decided to kill him for it in his sleep and then take it apart for materials once he found it where it waited on the beach. Even with the account which Hux had been given for the compulsion that brought him to the hateful planet, he could not shake the feeling that the faun still read the workings of his mind enough to discern an attempt at deception.

The faun had meanwhile been struggling with a second door and bolt which seemed to have been jammed, pushing and pulling at it with all of his might. "Oh not again," he murmured.

Hux watched him as he applied various methods to the door, wondering if he should offer his assistance.

"You know pasty, it often looks like you are planning something," said the being, pausing momentarily and turning to the other.

"I am General Armitage Hux of the First Order," he introduced himself to the creature in hopes of banishing the nickname he seemed to have acquired.

"Poe of the Fauns, it is an honor," he made a low bow to Armitage in mock deference. "Now, now - I'm not sure if it is a composition for a merry tune or murder that you are pondering over," the faun went on. "But I must warn you, you better behave yourself if you want to sleep in my nest."

The creature's eyes seemed to continuously twinkle along with his teasing smile and Hux was wrought to imagine how long he would survive under the wing of the hairy buffoon whom trees compelled him to love.

"Just you wait!" the being paced backwards and then ran into the jammed door with all of his weight. "Ah there we go! Looks like its budging at last – here it is, home sweet home, the abode of music and a thousand tongues," the faun held open the door for the general, whose eyes surveyed everything in the chamber with unsuppressed inquisitiveness.


	4. Chapter 4

The door revealed an almost impenetrable darkness, at which Armitage strained his eyes to discern the outline of shelves filled with bottles, jars, and an assortment of brick-a-brack arrayed along the perimeter of the dwelling. It seemed to him that the creature was an avid hoarder of rubbish, if he were not some kind of primitive shaman.

"Ah, wait here – I almost forgot," the faun shook his head and retraced his steps back to the clearing, where he proceeded to extinguish some of the candles which surrounded the picturesque pond by which he had been reciting his melody. The remainder were scooped up and placed upon a stone slab that served for a tray.

With this makeshift lantern, the faun hurried back to where Hux stood waiting him, striving as best as he might to protect it from with wind with his hand. Poe was relieved to find the general still at the entrance of the cave, for although he would offer the stranger the hospitality due to one in dire need – as was the unwritten rule of his people, governing friends and foes alike – he was loath to let down his guard completely. Likewise, a certain territorial nature would lead him to make sure that the Visitor knew who was master of the house, regardless of the jovial nature which he presented on the surface.

"Now let's bring some light to our humble abode," spoke the creature as he scurried about the cave to the various nooks and crannies where large candles were waiting to be lit, in little time managing to brighten the otherwise oppressing cavern.

Adjusting to the light, Armitage was able to survey the curiosities in detail, as well as what he supposed was the other's nest: a wickerwork bower with a circular entrance containing a generous heap of feathers in a tightly interwoven net, topped by diverse animal furs and heavy blankets. All of this sat atop of a platform or pedestal raised a few feet from the ground of the cave, while below giant tree trunks were used for tables and chairs. Some of these were crudely carved with winding ornaments but overall the efforts made at decoration were minimal.

It seemed that the main objective of the cave's occupant had been to cram as many things within as the limited space would hold, as though it were some kind of trader's post. From a cursory survey, Hux recognized pieces from at least five different spacecrafts, earthenware containers filled with sorted droid parts, cans of cheap rations, and a myriad of other things too long to list. It was only the area reserved for sleep that remained free of such clutter and for this the general was grateful, feeling eager to get some rest since the adrenaline which had kept him awake while traversing the forest had given way to exhaustion. Conversely, a part of him was wary of succumbing to this desire, lest the scavenging creature should turn out to be a less than welcoming host.

"Feel free to lay down and make yourself at home, have a bite to eat," said the faun as though in response to the man's doubts, gesturing to the pile of fruit that waited in one corner of the cave.

"Thank you," Hux took one from the pile, rubbing it with his handkerchief before taking a hesitant bite from the sour tasting fruit, his face contorting awkwardly as he tried to force a smile.

"Here, try another," the creature picked one out for him, which Armitage accepted with a slight bow of his head. Indeed he had been quite famished from his hike and devoured three of the sweeter tasting fruit in little time. After satisfying his hunger, he wished for nothing more than to lay down and rest his aching feet, yet was hesitant to do anything unseemly by the customs of his host, who was at the time busied with rummaging about the shelves.

"Go on, go on," Poe looked over his shoulder for a moment to check on the other before again resuming his search. "There's no need to stand on ceremony."

Still feeling ill at ease in the stranger's home, the man lingered for some time around the entrance of the bower before at last removing his muddied boots and sitting down on the edge of the makeshift bed.

"But do not fall asleep just yet," Poe remarked, "I still have to make the rahikrak oil. We do not want anything to happen to you tonight do we."

"What is this oil that you speak of?" Armitage watched by way of answer as the other grabbed a fistful of vermillion scarabs from the opening of an urn, swiftly shutting the lid before their companions could crawl out.

"Nasty buggers really, but what can you do," the faun pressed the creatures with a mortar and pestle, lithely catching those that had tried to skitter away. This work was carried out upon the grimiest of his tree-trunk tables and, not without revulsion, Hux watched the entirety of the faun's operation. Poe wasted no time in crushing the insects into a goo which he then passed through a sieve, allowing it to flow into a smaller receptacle.

"That's it," the faun said at last, "that is almost a year's worth of rahikrak oil that I am about to waste on you – so you better be grateful."

"Surely you do not expect me to drink that," just seeing the procedure was nearly enough to make him lose his dinner, yet at the same time he knew that if it was a matter of life and death, he would have no choice but to find the will to swallow the ghastly mixture. As for keeping it down, that was another matter.

"Of course not," Poe carried the bowl of sickly goo over to where Hux as sitting, "we will have to massage it all over you to mask your scent, in case the trees are feeding tonight. The odds are low, it is rather early in the season, but one can never be too careful. So hurry up and get undressed."

The general's lips tightened as his gloved hands approached the buttons of his coat, debating whether or not to obey or if it was all some kind of buffoonery at his expense.

"I know you might be bashful but we do not have all night," the faun smirked, amused to see that the stern-faced man so ceremonious about undressing before him. "Don't worry, I won't look."

"It's fine," Armitage glowered, throwing off the coat and methodically removing his belt, tunic, undershirt, and breeches so that he stood in nothing more than a pair of long drawers.

"Well?" the faun could not suppress his laughter, seeing the other's blushing embarrassment even to be seen in what many of the neighboring tribes would consider full attire.

"Well?" Hux repeated, feigning not to understand the intimation.

"Alright then, as you will," Poe approached the bed and gestured for Armitage to lie down upon his stomach, to which the man complied, remaining rigidly motionless as the slave of crushed insects was messaged onto his skin with a cold tingling sensation. The faun poured great globules of it and spread the viscous substance over the other's shoulders with his hands, pressing more firmly and rhythmically at times to make the process more comforting to Armitage, who seemed to be as relaxed as if the faun were extracting a bullet from his side. In time, Poe saw that Hux had closed his eyes and there was the slightest sign of contentment upon the general's lips as the other's touch and the pleasant softness of the blankets made him feel more at peace with the strange circumstances.

"You see, being smothered in bug juices can be an excellent bonding activity," the faun said teasingly as he continued to massage him, perhaps going beyond what was necessary for the original purpose of the procedure.

"Hurry up and be done with it," Armitage buried his face in the pillow, trying to hide the deepening hue of red spreading over his cheeks. In truth, he was loath to have the faun obey his words, for he had begun to enjoy the creature's touch. Everything about the night had been extraordinary, somewhere between horror and pleasure, yet he did not wish to make known to the creature either one of these emotions that would impede the necessity of his departure. He knew that he had to return to the ship in the morning at all costs, or surely his absence would be discovered.

Hux suddenly started as he felt that the faun had pulled down his drawers, "What are you doing?" he hissed, grabbing hold of the blanket to swiftly cover himself.

"You are getting bug juice everywhere!" Poe exclaimed as he tried to pull the blanket away, "It is nearly impossible to wash out you know. What, should I close my eyes then? Fine, I will," the faun obeyed the man's fiery expression but he could not help but smile, blushing at least as much as Armitage as his hands moved over the soft skin.

"I could have just done this myself, what were we thinking," muttered Hux, judging himself to be significantly sleep deprived, "Do you think this is amusing?" he turned again at the sound of ill-suppressed chuckling. The faun had opened his eyes a sliver, enjoying how susceptible the man was to his antics.

"I know you could have done it yourself, but what are friends for if you cannot entrust them with your buttocks?" the creature smiled. "Now excuse me, it looks like we are almost out," he shook the nearly empty bowl.

"This is ridiculous," Hux tried to raise himself up and find his clothes.

"There, now the bug juice is really all over the bed," sighed Poe. "If you are staying here you're doing the washing. It's decided."

"I am not staying here," scowled Hux, "I am leaving to find my ship first thing in the morning. I would be damned to remain upon this accursed planet."

"Well good luck with that, I'm afraid to say that your ship is likely gone by now," said Poe, his brow furrowing. He did not know why he was so perturbed by his guest's surprising resolution, was it due to the expanding plans and domestic daydreams which he would then cast to the wind, or the fascination which had been forming since he had first set eyes on the strange lanky creature, so defenseless and proud. Poe wondered how such a being could ever survive; were there other galaxies where dangers were small and fleeting, to allow such a one as Armitage to thrive long enough to acquire the haughty airs of one with power? He supposed that he ought not to have been surprised, the planet was hardly the sort of place a Visitor would like to live in, if he could help it.

"What!?" Hux climbed down from the bed, taking the blanket after him like a trailing robe.

"The water level rises at night – during high tide just about anything that remains on the beach will be swept away," the faun explained, trying to hide his feelings behind a countenance of nonchalance.

"How do you know that my ship is on the beach?" the general eyed him with suspicion.

"They always leave it there, the Visitors that come with ships – I guess the beach must look so inviting from above, compared to the forests and rocky cliffs," he shrugged. "But you are welcome to look for it tomorrow if you want, see if I'm wrong. Go on, take a little morning stroll through the woods and ignore everything I have said."

"W-well I – " Hux turned away from the faun's displeased gaze which even his efforts could not mask, regretting that he had thus offended the creature, apologetic of rash words that ought to have been kept within. Yet if what Poe had said was true, he had much greater troubles to vex him – it distressed him greatly to think that his ship was gone, and having disabled its tracking, it might be some time before the First Order found him.

"No need to apologize," Poe continued. "I understand that you Firsordians must be a hostile frigid race, I could read the contempt in your eyes the moment you first realized that I was not an omnipotent deity. I must say, you really set the bar high – what could an honest faun do? Yet just you wait, as soon as you are far from me again, the effect of the forest will return and you will be unable to think about anything but Poe the hairy half-breed, and fantasizing about my hands all over you, bug juice and all. I took pity on you this time, but if you do not want my help, I shall not offer it a second time. You are welcome to leave whenever you wish."

"I apologize for my ingratitude," said Armitage, gritting his teeth.


	5. Chapter 5

The faun went over to a basket of fabric and selected a plain but elegant woolen robe of gray, as well as a long linen tunic to wear underneath, handing both of these sleeping garments to his guest. Hux took them without a word and proceeded to dress himself in the same efficient manner as the creature observed in all of his movements. A part of him had begun to regret the liberties which he had taken, wondering if his merry antics had overstepped some boundary which would further stir the stranger's already distrustful nature. Poe admitted to himself that he would be sorry to see Armitage depart, not only for the sake of his experiment but also for the hope that he might prove a more suitable companion for the musician than the unintelligible beasts and warring tribes which inhabited the planet, or his own people who had cast him into exile.

Yet these thoughts were much disturbed as he felt the other draw suddenly a dagger to the back of his neck while he was busied with removing the remnants of the crushed beetles from his work table.

"Is it true, these mad tales – the infernal forest, the tide carrying away my ship – or is it all of it simply nonsense that you have been spouting for a bit of laughter?" he heard the other's venomous voice close to his ear, "I will not be made fool of," Hux's anger was fueled by the recollection of his prior complacency in submitting to the ludicrous treatment suggested by the twittering faun, finding it unthinkable that he should have allowed himself to be commanded by such a creature as the one who stood before him, remembering its trickster's smile as a licentious leer. He knew only to blame his acquiescence to the lack of sleep, the unprecedented nature of the circumstances and most disturbing of all, the influence of visions which had compelled him to set out for the planet against all reason, setting into motion all that was to come.

"It is true and I shall show you that it is so, if you would allow me," the faun answered, his voice steady and unwavering with the knowledge that he could well prove all that he had told the general.

"How is it that you would do so?" he wondered if it was a threat that the creature had retorted with.

"In that large chest there, you will find some of the beings who had met the fate which I had promised to save you from, preserved in amber for all time," Poe cautiously turned to move toward the heavy wooden trunk wish stood against the wall of the cave, while the dagger and the Visitor's piercing stare followed him. Armitage prepared himself for some kind of trap, lest the other should produce a weapon, yet he made good his promise and Hux almost wished it had been otherwise as he gazed at the wizen human form of skin and bones which lay at the bottom of the chest, something like a bog-man surrounded by other amorphous bodies of strange creatures, all encased in the crystal-like golden substance of chilling beauty.

He staggered back at the ghastly sight, his hand unconsciously covering his mouth while his features contorted into an image of pain. Somehow the sight of the beings moved him with an empathy more poignant than that which he had felt before even for the destruction of entire planets at his orders. As a general, he had stood at a distance – dealing with theoretical causes and effects, with vague and homogenous entities – while in that moment, the sight of the amber form within the dimly lit cave had struck the cord of threatened self-preservation and something else besides.

Armitage saw in the hunched humanoid figure especially, with its pronounced jaw and misshapen forehead, the remnants of an ancestral race of eons past, and a thousand such deaths preserved for posterity. There was something mysterious and sinister in the cadaverous hallows of the creature's eyes which reminded him of all such eyes as returned his regard during the years for which he had served his master, bringing trembling of remorse to a heart which long had sought to protect itself from such emotions.

"Why do you keep this in your home?" spoke Hux, turning to the faun with a shaken expression he could not conceal from the sympathetic being.

"As a reminder of my mortality," Poe answered, closing the lid of the chest which sent the dust dispersing into the air. It had been long since he had opened it, not since the passing of the chieftain of the fauns.

"Are there others of your kind living close to this area, or is your species a solitary one?" the general questioned him, wondering what to make of the morose sentiments of the creature who had until then struck him as the sort who would not be amiss amid court entertainers, hopping about playing upon a lute and uttering thinly veiled insults intermingled with comedy. Indeed, the contrasting mixture of halved beauty and deformity only added to this effect, for idle regents seemed oft to be drawn to the grotesque.

There was no doubt in Hux that a mercenary man would with little effort find a generous buyer for such a specimen. He vividly recalled the slave auctions which he had not long ago beheld with a sardonic curiosity, not without pity for the noble beings which were so reduced below their natural dignity. He could see the fierce defiance and hatred in their eyes as they were brought unto a platform in chains, while in others, the flame seemed extinguished, heads bowed and shoulders marked with bloodied scars. At such a time, he would indulge in the fantasy of purchasing them all, regardless of what cost, regardless of their worth at market, and setting them free in order to think himself magnanimous. Yet for whatever reason he had never found within himself the courage to act upon this impulse. There was a vexing embarrassment in it, he mused, that if such an act was discovered he would be then thought of as an incomprehensible impulsive and weak man, unworthy of his rank.

"My people live close to the mountains, where we shall journey tomorrow – unless you are still resolved to search for your ship," said Poe.

"And why is it that you have decided to abandon them?" asked the Visitor.

"I am not welcome amongst them, as there is no atoning for my singular crime," Poe knew not how much to reveal to the other, feeling that it was too soon for him to be exposed to such questions. At the same time, within his heart was an inner longing to share the knowledge of the burden which had been upon him for years, carried in silence and in solitude. Poe had few illusions regarding the scope of the other man's compassion, yet perhaps such a figure was all the more likely to side with him and dismiss the gravity of his guilt, as simply the means to an end that appeared to shine with grandeur, surpassing any single transitory life.

"And what is this crime which you refer to?" Armitage examined the faun closely, perceiving the discomfort in his limbs, the faun's lip twitching with the anxiety of having to make a confession.

"The corruption of the chieftain" he began, sitting down upon the bed with his eyes to the floor of the cave, "when you had first approached me, you wondered at my ability to recognize and understand your speech. Did this not strike you as wondrous, given the multitude of tongues that exist across galaxies?"

"I admit that it did, yet at the time everything about this planet struck me as marvelous and I was moved by a will that was not my own," Armitage answered him with equal sincerity, sensing in the other's tone that grave matters were to be revealed to him in which he took an inquisitive interest. Although he had travelled to many planets during his time of service, the constraints of his role had permitted him few opportunities to partake in intimate conversation with the diverse peoples that he had encountered, nor was he so beguiled as to think that they would entrust one of a conquering order with a heart to heart.

"I shall tell you then how it was so, how I knew from whence you came and the tongue which you spoke before I was even conscious of knowing these facts," the faun looked up at him with an expression which Hux could not place, only that it there was guilt in it, and fear too, "the trees which are the chief danger of this land, they are called the ambrosial trees, the trees of the gods. I have yet to find proof of the existence of the gods which my people worship, yet to the powers of the ambrosial trees I have given my life. Their potency is not only in luring and in beguiling, nor in extinguishing the flame that they stir in mortal hearts. It is by working its influence upon the mind that the forest draws the Visitors here, and once it has them, their thoughts and memories remain to flow through the tree which had crystalized what remained of the wayward soul which was victim to the forces of this planet.

It is this substance that I had distilled for the chief of my people, a learned honorable leader, forever searching for enlightenment to leave as a legacy to his descendants, always dissatisfied with the brevity of the centuries allotted to him to consume the knowledge for which he was his service, I offered the aid of my arts and for many nights we toiled in the alchemy of distilling the essence of the Visitors' memories from the sap of the ambrosial trees, drinking them with tea or wine, laughing and crying, scribbling madly, trying to connect all of the haphazard visions which would flit through our minds while we were in the ambrosial trance. We would record blueprints for flight machines; compositions for music, medicines, and fine liquors; enthralling tales of wonder describing the Visitor's planet of origin, with its customs and poetry so different from our own; and even the instincts of the beasts would be laid bare to us, to be able to unravel the reason why the tharacoor screeches at night or why the raflinoo buries its young. All of these things we knew.

Each morning the chieftain and I would rise before the sun to check the taps of the trees and carry back the vails of the golden ambrosia to this very cave. We worked until night's return, distilling, drinking, filling manuscript upon manuscript, resolving that one day each of these fragments of diverse lives – of insects and beasts, of warriors and kings – would one day be arranged into the knowledge of the universe. The two of us became bound companions, for no longer could we take pleasure in the company of others not intimated in the secrets of our work; beyond our work all else appeared trivial, a distraction taking its toll upon our limited time. The chieftain was a man of great strength yet as the years passed his health began to decline, further aggravated by the unsparing routine which he subjected himself to, taking little food and hardly enough rest to sustain him. Our people were torn into factions with regard to their loyalties – some believed that he was unfit to govern, and hardly did he exercise his rule but by forcing the fauns to aid him in collecting the ambrosia; his goal was to leave no tree untried.

The Cave Dwellers, those most akin to your race, although less advanced than your kind, were an equally covetous people. They did not hesitate to grasp the opportunity of discord amongst us to wage battle and raze many of our villages. Our chief, much changed in nature since what I can only term as an addiction to the ambrosia did little to lead our people, instead delegating his officials to attempt peaceful means of negotiation with the barbaric tribes. The majority saw this as a futile shameful effort and indeed it proved to be so.

At the sudden death of the chieftain, I had been left to take the blame for our leader's demise and exiled to this cave, for only the noble blood of my family had protected me from execution. To this day I drink the ambrosia in small doses each morning to keep my mind from derangement, while my body aches for it with a yearning that no force of will could resist. That is the tale of my crime and my misfortune.

It is because one had perished here who had seen you, had spoken with you while he was alive that I was able to address you without hesitation in the tongue of your people," thus the faun concluded his account, "by the power of the ambrosia so dearly bought"

Meanwhile, Armitage had followed this strange tale with a conscience torn between pity and disbelief. A part of him wished to accuse the creature of weaving fables such as are told to frighten children or bring amusement after a banquet, yet at last he relented to his softer emotions, sitting down beside the creature and searching for words of comfort which he was little practiced in speaking.

"It has long been my desire to create a flight machine, to explore the distant galaxies which I know only through the shadows of intermediaries," Poe continued, his thoughts in a distant place, as though forgetting the listener to whom he spoke while reveling in the pleasure of confessing all that had been oppressing him during his years of seclusion. "I had long dreamed of leaving behind this land which affords little joy but the few hermit's pastimes of the flute and the solitary rambles through the wilderness, yet never am I left without the reminders of my master and oppressor; the poison in my veins. In rage I had cut down the Tree of Knowledge, such the chieftain and I had called the most ancient of the ambrosial trees. For days I would work away at its trunk as searing pain coursed through my body and my head throbbed in agony, yet nothing would deter me from my purpose. Yet even this did not free me, I am bound to this planet – as you are bound to me."


End file.
